


Distraction

by bleumysti



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Loneliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21648649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleumysti/pseuds/bleumysti
Summary: He’s getting really tired of being a distraction.Nice and safe are perfectly fine, but it’s never enough.Nice is cool and safe is alright, but first is better.He doesn’t want to be someone’s safe choice. He wants to be their only choice– their first choice, a real choice.A permanent choice.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	Distraction

_**Fandom:** Roswell, New Mexico_

_**Character** : Kyle Valenti _

_**Inspo** : ValentiWeek19, Kyle Valenti Week. _

_**A/N:** Just another freestyle of the angsty, introspective variety. Enjoy, or not. It’s fine. _

As seen on Tumblr.

—

He’s getting really tired of being a distraction.

He’s made peace with it, in a way, but in the still of the night he reaches across mussed sheets, and it’s cold and bare.

Distractions rarely get sleepovers; they get a few hours of pleasure that leave him feeling emptier than when he started.

He can’t think of the last time someone loved him – fully, contentedly.

He can’t remember when he wasn’t someone’s consolation prize. Someone’s rebound. Someone’s… distraction.

He’s confident, but he’s not made of stone. He’s not impenetrable to hurt, and pain, and loneliness.

Loneliness is his most familiar bedfellow, and it’s a selfish lover.

It wraps its fingers around his throat until he’s choking back sobs he won’t acknowledge come morning.

It weighs him down so heavily, he’s in awe of how well he hides it away.

He’s a hopeless romantic. It seems to contradict everything people assume about him, and he wonders what it is about him that projects that he isn’t ready for love – that he isn’t worthy of it.

Because everyone leaves in the end.

Sometimes he wishes someone would see that in his eyes before they walk away. He wishes they’d hear the “please don’t go” on the tip of his tongue.

He hopes they’ll feel the desperation in his grasp as he tangles his fingers with theirs.

Sometimes he silently prays to some God he’s not sure he believes in that they’ll hear his most vulnerable pleas behind his words.

“Take care,” he says. _“Don’t go.”_

“This was nice,” he mutters. _“Why can’t this last?”_

“Goodbye,” he smirks halfhearted. _“Why does everyone leave?”_

He’s getting really tired of people running away. He can identify fallen lovers, possibilities, and what could be’s by the back of their heads.

He can trace the image of their backs, each one tattooed on his heart, scarred, bruised, but not completely broken because he’s not one for giving up.

He was cursed with the ability to fall for people with one foot out the door.

Always one foot out of the relationship, body leaned forward, restless, and he tries not to take it personally, but how could he not?

Everyone always cared, but not enough to stay, and he’s tired of losing people.

He’s tired of losing out on love.

He wonders if he’s destined to be a rest stop. Someplace for others to lay their weary heads and unburden themselves before moving on.

He’s too good at being a safe port in someone else’s storm; he’s ready and willing to be regardless, but when is it his turn?

He’s not selfish, but he has needs and desires, and he wonders where’s his reciprocity?

He’s left enough pieces of his heart in the hands of those who didn’t want the responsibility of tending to it that he wonders how he still has one left.

Sometimes he’s tired of being looked at but not seen.

He can taste stale beer and someone else’s name on his lover’s lips or sees a reflection that isn’t his own in their glassy eyes.

He’s a sin eater; they bury their problems with him and leave sated and free, and he’s left longing for what could have been – a possibility.

He doesn’t know how he was designated to carry their past, while he’s always robbed of a future.

He’s strong and fit, but some days it gets heavy.

It’s exhausting carting around other people’s emotional baggage when he’s never given a real chance to unpack his own.

He was engaged once. He didn’t even tell his mom about that because deep down, he wasn’t sure it could last, and his fiancee proved him right.

She told him he was a nice guy, the perfect guy, but not _her_ guy, and he still doesn’t know what that means.

Because it never mattered if he was an asshole or nice at the end, the result was always the same.

Nice and safe is perfectly fine, but it’s never enough. Nice is cool and safe is alright, but first is better.

He doesn’t want to be someone’s safe choice. He wants to be their _only_ choice– their _first_ choice, a _real_ choice.

A _permanent_ choice.

He’s a healer, but he’s tired of mending broken hearts. He’s over stitching up all the broken pieces until someone feels whole again and then being left behind when they want to try out his handiwork with someone else.

He’s tired of hearing what he can do for them – how he can make them better at the moment when he’s not getting the same in return.

He’s a caretaker, but he’s not done being taken care of yet.

He still desires it, craves it, hopes that maybe, someday someone will see all the places within him the light doesn’t shine and illuminate the darkness.

He doesn’t want to be the person that someone settles for… he doesn’t want to be the good guy and the right guy after a long journey of poor decisions, he just wants to be _the guy_.

He’ll keep giving until he has nothing left in the tank, and he just wants someone to remind him to stop and refuel.

Is it too much to ask for someone who gives back?

He’s getting real tired of being used.

He kicks himself every time because he’ll take scraps in hopes that they’ll blossom into something whole, and he only ends up hurting himself in the end.

He once told Liz Ortecho to “use” him, like Olivia didn’t already use him, or Jamie, or Robin, or Avery. And left him broken and wondering why he was just good but not good enough.

He wears abandonment like an invisible cloak because everyone leaves him in the end.

Or worse, they still linger in his life on the outskirts, just shy of being romantically accessible.

It’s harder that way. He has a string of friends he thought were more, which means they don’t mind being around him, just not in love with him; is he just unlovable?

He loves hard and deep. He loves in so many different ways, it keeps people around. He doesn’t love at half-measure, and he knows others love him too, but it’s never quite the same.

His ex once called him “Mr.Feel Good,” and he laughed so hard he knew the tears springing to his eyes were intentionally misleading.

Because he wants to feel good, too. He wants to feel _more_ than …

Just once, he wants to feel like more than a distraction. 

–fin–


End file.
